Chapter 16
sixteen
. . .
Present Day
I pull out of the past with a gasp, my eyes moist. When I went into the memory, I was in my chair, but now I’m standing alone in the dark. The window, my chair, and my bed all out of sight.
Kit doesn’t say anything, but I can feel his eyes on me.
“I suppose you saw that?” I ask quietly, staring at my feet.
He doesn’t respond for a long moment, but eventually answers with only a, “Yes.”
“Sorry I keep exposing you to my sad excuse of a life.”
“I like learning about you.”
Suddenly, he appears before me in his human form, those blue eyes of his dark and open. He thumbs away an escaped tear, and murmurs, “You’re crying on the outside, too.” He lets his hand rest on my cheek as he fades away. His voice rings out, “It was okay to be angry.”
“I shouldn’t have yelled at her like that. It was my last chance to speak with her.”
“You don’t still speak with her?”
“I talk to her all the time. But that was my last chance for her to talk back. I firmly believe she has moved on.” I clear my throat. “Anyway,” I stress, wanting to leave this conversation far behind us. August is none of his business. “How do you do that? Appear in here?”
“Ah, well, it takes a lot of concentration, but I can have a corporeal form in your head with you. Usually doesn’t stick for long.
If you, uh…like when I got drunk and passed out and you had control, I was in your head like this.
It’s easier for me to appear in that form the more power you have over your body, I guess, because more of me is concentrated on the inside. ”
“That’s insanely confusing.” I start walking in an attempt to find my way back to the window.
“The supernatural world always is.” He flips the topic. “So, you’re a pretty popular paranormal investigator. I googled you.”
I smile, sliding back into my chair to find Kit staring up at the ceiling. He’s lying on his back on the couch, fingers interlaced behind his head. “I am.” I pick at my nail polish. “There’s actually this competition I was planning on entering. For a pilot of my own show.”
“Like a TV show? On TV?”
I shake my head. “Not network television. A random streaming service. But, yeah. I could submit some of the videos I already made, ones that got a lot of hits, but I don’t know.
I need something incredibly unique to get ahead of the rest. I haven’t had much luck, though.
” I laugh darkly. “Not that it matters, if you’re running my life now. ”
Kit is quiet for a beat, his eyes closing, sending us both into darkness. “I don’t plan on being with you forever.”
“No one does,” I say before I can stop myself.
That’s not what he meant. I know that. I cross my fingers, hoping Kit doesn’t ask me to expand.
Doesn’t ask me about every relationship that faded away, how August died and left me, how my dad did the same before her.
How no one is permanent, and even if they are, like Meggie, I fear that they’re not, because I’ve been proven wrong countless times.
I wish Kit wasn’t so easy to talk to—I wish he would stop giving the impression that he cares about me, blurring lines between us that should stay definitively drawn. Am I that pathetic? Some demon shows me a little attention and I melt for him.
I clear my throat. “The deadline is in three weeks, anyway. You’re not going to be gone before then, are you?”
“Probably not,” he responds gruffly. “You know, I could help.” His eyes reopen, and we’re peering at the ceiling again.
I furrow my brow. “Help with what?”
“Finding something cool and unique for your submission. Who else has a demon on their side? I am the authority on weird, interesting, and freaky paranormal activity.”
I don’t trust this offer. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I should even bother entering—my cameras are shit, so I feel like they’ll scoff at the quality.”
“I can steal you a high-quality camera.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Seriously, though. I want to help.”
I chew on my lip. “Really? You’d help?”
“Of course. I figure it will be a good way to repay you for letting me crash.”
I chuckle involuntarily. “Sure. Thank you.”
“What are friends for?”
My lips pinch to conceal a smile.
Okay. It’s official: My sanity is gone. He says we’re friends and, even though I hate to, I have to agree. I have made friends with a real, legitimate demon who has possessed me. This is absolute madness.
Kit is putting my hair into a French braid. Though this is far from an advanced hairstyle, I appreciate the effort he puts into it every day. My hair can drive me up the wall, but I love it. I miss the constant battle with it.
“Any plans today?” I ask.
Kit smiles at the sound of my voice. “Nothing nefarious. Anything you want to do?”
I shrug. “I usually use my free time to edit my videos or research new locations to investigate.”
He weighs his head, then I watch as an idea sparks in his eyes. “Well, I said I’d help with your ghost hunt. There’s a place we could check out. The Voyager’s Mansion.”
I rack my brain for that name, but come up with nothing. “I’ve never heard of that.”
“You wouldn’t have. It’s not really on any haunted radar, but there is definitely some activity going on in there—it had a big fire back in the ’40s where a lot of people died. We can wait until nightfall, or we can head over now while it’s light just to check it out?”
I’m far from busy. And checking out a haunted house sounds normal—for me. I’m dying to do something normal. “Sure. Let’s go now.”
Kit smiles even wider. “Okay.”
He exits the bathroom, snatches the keys for my car off the hook by the door, and practically runs down the steps. We drive until we reach a large grassy field, and Kit pulls to the side of the road. I don’t see any signs of life, let alone afterlife.
“Are we in the right place?”
“Yeah, it’s just a bit of a trek. I figured you wouldn’t want your car left by the actual entrance.”
I cock my head. “Wow. That is correct.”
He trudges up a pretty steep hill, and that’s when I spot it in the distance—a large white brick mansion that looks like a speck from where we stand.
“You weren’t kidding about the trek.”
“It’s a good thing your legs won’t get tired.”
We walk through fields of purple wildflowers. Kit bends down and plucks one, twirling it in between his fingers. “You like wildflowers?” he asks.
“Sure. They’re pretty,” I say, breathing in deeply through my nose. If I think really hard, I can almost smell them.
He puts the flower he plucked behind his ear. “You’d look beautiful with them braided into your hair. Or with a crown weaved of them on your head. More beautiful, if that’s possible.”
While it makes me flush when he tells me how hot I am, this is worse. When he tells me I’m beautiful, completely unprompted—like it’s something he thinks about. He’s not allowed to think I’m beautiful.
I deflect the compliment. “Little hippy-ish, huh? Were you alive in the early ’70s?”
He chuckles. “No.”
As we get closer to the house, I notice how well-kept it seems. “You sure this place is empty? I mean, beyond the mass of wildflowers, the house itself looks perfectly organized.”
“People live here, they just don’t live here now. This time of the year, they’re in Florida. The presence of people can give ghosts energy, right? So, the activity here will be strong.”
If I had tracks to stop, that would have done it. “You mean, this is someone’s house? What if they have security cameras?”
Kit trudges forward without pause. “They don’t. And there’s no one else that lives around here. We’ll be fine.”
“All right…” I say doubtfully.
Sensing my apprehension, he changes the subject. “So, August is the reason you started ghost hunting, but why do you still do it? Why do you want the show?”
My mouth twitches at the mention of August. I think about her every day, but since Kit arrived, I’ve been thinking about her more. I like visiting her in my thoughts, even if it makes me sad.
I answer his question. “Her death brought me back to it. And I’m still doing it now because it’s fun.
I really enjoy it. The thrill and fright of it and the adrenaline.
But I also like to visit the ghosts. Give them someone to talk to, even if it’s not always easy to converse.
And…and it makes me feel less lonely if I can help them to feel less lonely.
” I quickly move on. “Having my own show would let me share forgotten people’s stories with the world.
It would give me a budget to dedicate all that I can to the ghosts, and August’s memory as well.
I could spend my life doing something I actually enjoy. ”
“Those are great reasons.” He takes a breath before he adds, “I wish you didn’t feel so alone.”
I want to debate the difference between feeling lonely and alone with him, but I bite my tongue when I realize he’s right. I do feel alone.
Or at least, I did before I started sharing my body with him.
“Yeah, well, it can’t be helped. I’ve lost some significant, irreplaceable people.”
He hums. “Some people aren’t replaceable, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have room to add new people to your life. Not in place, but in addition.”
“Don’t get all deep on me,” I scold.
“Sorry—I just understand feeling alone and how much it sucks.” Kit reaches down for another wildflower, this one blue, twirling it in his fingers.
I start to say how I’m sorry he also feels alone, but am cut off by a sharp prick on my arm.
“Ow.” I look down with Kit at an angry red bump on my arm.
“Shit,” he swears. “Sorry. Bee. You got stung.” He brings my arm into closer view. “It doesn’t look that bad.”
If the blood could drain from my face, it would. I whisper, “I’m allergic to bees.”
My void starts to violently quake. The walls are closing in on me, swelling closed as my throat follows suit.
“Kit!” I scream, using my arms to push back uselessly against the engorging walls. “Help! Kit!” But it’s no use. The walls are pressing against me tightly, trapping me in, squeezing me until I can’t move. No escape.
I choke, desperate for air that won’t come. Everything goes black.
Then my eyes blink open. The sun above me is bright; the sky cloudless.
I’m lying in the field—alone. Shallow breaths manage to make it into my lungs, but this won’t last for long.
Air scratches against my throat, trying and failing to claw its way inside.
The sky is growing smaller as my eyes swell closed. My head is so heavy.
I’m dying.
I’m alone.
Kit left me.